Wonderstuck: A Cursed Tale
by insaneAdventurer
Summary: John stumbles into Wonderland, only to find himself in quite a predicament. The Kingdoms are against eachother and the Prophecy must be fulfilled! Will John bring back what once was lost?


All was not right in Wonderland, for the name was not spoken true. No happiness sprouted nor smiles appeared for the one who was soon to be dead was you. In the depths of the forest lay the scariest of all, Gamzee Makara who owned the Circus hall! The rabbit ran to try to escape, and Chesire Cat proved a disgrace! For Alice ran, for (s)he was lost. Will you try to? And bring back what once was?

John walks into the land of fears. He soon finds himself enclosed by what seems to be a sea of green, or also known as, a forest. Blood tainted leaves mark the path of the kill. John, being simple minded, follows the said trail. Deep in the depths of the bundle of trees, The Mad Hatter sings a haunting tune as he polishes his weapons. "One by one, they all go~ They will wander to and fro~ "

The rabbit hopped along the forest hoping that whatever he ran into didn't try to kill him. Every few moments, he would hesitantly check his watch, being mindful of the terrors that lurk if not cautious.

Karkat paces up and down his corridors, red patterns of lace, velvet, and satin cover the windows and adorn everything quite tastefully.

But the decorations are the least of concerns now. He's been burdened with the task of recollecting young blood from travelers again, for his riches and youth to continue to be eternal. His misconception of life will be handed to him one day, but that day will come later in life when fate finally spits in his face and he's dawned with said sorrow.

The Cheshire kitty, Nepeta, was up in a tree licking her paws and meowing in the most annoying manner. She understood this but still she was bored and with nothing to do, she hopped down from the tree, walking deep into the forest hoping to find something entertaining. Maybe a murder perhaps? She purred at the thought and allowed her tail to curl up against the chilling breeze.

On a windy hill, a figure cloaked in white sits, gazing out into the drenched moor. She finds solace in the misty expanse, empty of so much life. As her thoughts clear, running through their cycles, a single fact persists. The once amiable balance of power in the land has gone sour, assumptions and distrust eating at the very core of this reality's life. She knows something will Fall soon. Something will Fall and Break. Off in the distance, there is a mere crack of a twig. If it were a normal day, no reaction would come forth. With thanks to the curse, there hadn't been a normal day in years. So the snap meant either fight or flight. The white rabbit preferred not to fight so in an instance he was bolting through the dark forest, making sure to avoid the maniac's tent.

John came face to face with what seemed to be a brightly lit tent. Considering dawn had fallen, he grabbed at the hem of his dress and ran for all that is good and true. He crawled inside the tent. The aroma that hit his nostrils gave him a pain in the pit of his stomach. The blue lace and white bows that adorned the gown he wore started flowing with the night draft. The room he stood in was all white. Nothing lay in the room. Nothing dwelled but a single wooden chair. Exhausted from the recent encounter, he walked towards it hesitantly and sat. Only to be greeted by a scent of musk and blood. BAM! The lights went off.

The psychotic clown entered with the Honk! of a horn, and on the lights went. His outfit seemed rather clean, with shining buttons and a stopwatch at the breast pocket. His tailcoat stood out however, as it resembled a rainbow.

The Cheshire cat came upon the slightest hint of blood. She purred, pleasure tingling through her body. "What fun awaits." She meowed following the musky sent of blood that still lingered through her very existence. On the other side of this world, the rabbit sniffed blood. "Wonderful," he thought with sarcasm. He nonetheless went towards the smell. Curiosity getting the better of him.

The young boy in the dress questioned his surroundings. The clown began to sing, "Boys and girls of every age! Are you ready to see something strange? Come with us and you will see, the terrors that lie within' me~"

The Crimson Curmudgeon felt something was out of order in this universe and frankly, he wasn't very much liking it.

And one of his messengers was late. An angered growl left his lips as he descended down the stairs,

It was time for a gamble.

A deal of sorts.

He knew where to get this blood he craved every now and then, there must be SOME fool that's idiotic enough to run through his turf of the land. And that was his prey.

Some kind of gaunt that's lost himself.

A simple murder didn't hurt every now and then. But he wouldn't risk any kind of treason by his followers, so he'd get someone to do his dirty work for him.

And he knew exactly who to get to do the dirty deed.

The clown, tainted with stains of blood, turned his back to the trespassing human and allowed a smirk to cross his lips. His had the stem of his blade in a firm grasp and refused to let go. He had already lost enough. Each passing moment, his power grew. He wasn't going to let it slip though his fingertips. With that, he jumped atop a staircase that revealed itself with light, and danced atop the railing, his eyes filled with spite.

Down below, the tiny human smiled in disbelief. He knew the acts that were being committed were not of evil, but of loss. This criminal had something "they" wanted. John was going to stop at nothing to get it back to him. Wonderland had to be brought back.

The white rabbit finally came across the location where the blood was coming from. He grimaced, the smell was too strong here, and he knew exactly why. This had been once a happy place. In fact, he had even shared a few laughs here, but it was now dark and void of anything happy. He worried for whatever poor fool wandered in there. He stayed outside hidden amongst the dead trees.

Down a nearby stream, a bottle floated, knocking into small stones and bobbing as it followed the ebb and flow of the water. Picking up her skirts, the Sibylline Queen dashed to the object. News was a scarce resource in such Times as these, not a thing to be hesitant in collecting. Extracting the phial from the thistles, she read the slip of parchment stowed inside and smiled.

Karkat wasted no time in calling for one of his horses and his most prestigious sword.

Weaponry was an option, but it's better safe than sorry.

He mounted the brute before, it's hide a silvery black and mane white as now, a streak of red aesthetically added...for notability.

The steed began at a gallop until provoked into a steady run. Mane and hair blew back at the velocity the beast was running at.

The king was not one to waste any time, especially with such a matter as this.

In life or death, he will always be power hungry.

His bright yellow orbs narrowed as he sunk deep, deep into his thoughts. Sceneries passed him by and when he finally snapped out of his thoughts, he found himself nearly bypassing his destination.

With a pull of a reign, the horse stopped with a ferocious neigh and an angry stomp. Skillfully, Karkat unmounted the horse and tied him to a nearby tree. Making sure he had his sword, the bright colors were immediate to catch his eyes as he looked up.

A wild array of polka dots and different fabrics patched together made up the non-compos-mantis's tent. Then, Karkat was reminded why he had cut cords with the demented man.

But there was no turning back now, Not at all.

The psychotic killer sniffed out the scent of his so called, "Best Friend." He politely excused himself and continued towards the slit in the tent. Once outside, he made his way around the side and greeted his friend. "Karkat. It sure has been a while. What honor is bestowed upon me in which I can dwell in the air of such a royal presence?"

Karkat gave a simple scoff, disregarding his friend's usual antics. He waved him off, a scowl on his face, as always, of course~.

"Gamzee, I'm not here for your games...I have a proposition for you." Karkat was always a blunt man, whether people liked it or not, he'd speak his mind. Not that he wasn't cautious of what he said, but he'd let them know what's on his mind.

One way or another.

His eyes narrowed down on the taller figure dressed in a ridiculous ensemble. He was never one for a fashion sense.

"I see you've lost your taste along with your sanity, ." A small smirk creeped onto the king's lips as he bowed slightly in greeting.

It was late, yes. But he was lucky enough to receive it.

" , are you perhaps, trying to settle a score with me? My, you make my blood boil. Well, I have a set of words that seem fitting towards you're standards. Fuck you. May you burn in the deepest depths of Hell itself and your skin peel ever so slowly, leaving behind the remnants of your cold motherfucking heart."

Karkat remained silent for the allotted time.

"Seem fitting?" Gamzee ridiculed. "Thought so." The maniac leaned in closer, meeting face to face with the being. "From your veins, will drip my miracles. Your bones will make a fucking special stardust. Welcome to the Carnival Brother!"

From behind the nearest tree, Nepeta saw Karkat and Gamzee. "Ohhhh~ entertainment," She murmured to herself. She held back laughter that was daring enough to escape her lips. No, no laughter. Not now. She wanted her presence to not be known... yet. She softly padded closer to Karkat and Gamzee incognito.

John, using his knowledge, always carried a small blade. Using it to cut himself free, he crawled out of the slit and climbed the nearest tree, being cautious of the rustling leaves. With that, he listened in on the amusing conversation. Behind him, Jake, the rabbit paled slightly at the sign of the Red King, but then he regained his senses when a boy crawled out of the tent. A boy wearing a dress. "What is this world coming to?" He thought. Besides that, Jake hid himself deeper in the trees keeping watch on the boy out of the corner of his eye.

Karkat simply gave a laugh, holding onto his stomach. He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Why, my friend, my plans in the afterlife are yet to be conspired." He shrugged carelessly, "Plus, I planned to do that anyhow." He smirked, his eyes visibly turning into a dark crimson.

"I simply came to offer you a familair routine. It's no problem if you decide not to oblige, Mr. Makara." Karkat cut loose this playful tact of his and his face became killer serious.

"I have no problem doing it myself." His voice was gravelly, rustic with hatred towards this man.

The king turned around once again, stalking off to his horse. Swiftly mounting the steed, he pulled his hood on.

"And to leave you with a note...there are no Miracles, Mr. Makara." Karkat's jaw set harshly and he nodded once in goodbye.


End file.
